Blood of the Guardian

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Blood of the Guardian Page 19

by Kristal Shaff


  Kael motioned to the other three Speed Rol’dan. “We will start here, each of us taking a section of forest, and fan out. We will meet back in two hours, unless you’ve found Deverell.”

  “And me?” Megan asked.

  “We will leave Maska here with you; we’ll be able to cover more ground if we aren’t hindered.” He turned toward Maska. “Watch over her. Brim help us if anything happens to her.”

  Maska nodded. “I’ll keep her safe.”

  “We’ll come get you if we find him,” Kael said, then hesitated. “Or if we need you.”

  Megan’s stomach turned. He meant, if we find him alive.

  “We’ll find him,” Kat added, her eyes flaring golden.

  Megan nodded, knowing her friend was just trying to make her feel better.

  The Rol’dan darted off, leaving Maska and her alone. A cool wind blew, rustling the branches. White cottonwood fluff drifted along, filling the air like snow from the higher regions. She studied Maska, but he wouldn’t look at her. A pair of squirrels twirled around the trunk of a tree, then scurried into the foliage.

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  “What is there to talk about?”

  She moved from the mossy patch where she’d been standing and touched his arm. “I don’t blame you.”

  His square jaw tensed. “Then I will do it for both of us.”

  She pulled him to face her—like grabbing a stone statue. He turned, but he kept his head lowered, dark eyes avoiding her. Sorrow splayed across his face.

  “I have nightmares of that night,” she said.

  His head snapped up; he opened his mouth to speak.

  “But they aren’t about you. Never about you. You weren’t using me. You cared—”

  “I cared?” Maska said, his lip curling. “Strange way to show I cared.”

  “We’ve been friends a long time. I don’t blame you; it wasn’t your fault.”

  He turned his wide back to her. “And I was using you.”

  “You weren’t,” she said. “He was.”

  Ever since Alcandor had made them join, Maska had changed. She found the new Maska foreign and strange. Emery had told her Maska could feel, that he masked his emotions. In some ways, Megan was glad it had happened, glad that it had broken through his emotional dam. And she hadn’t lied concerning her memories with him. The part with Maska didn’t bother her as much. He was a victim, too. He’d been a puppet, just like her.

  She cleared her throat, forcing back the blush forming on her cheeks. “Did Emery tell you … about the baby?”

  “He told me.”

  Relief washed over her. At least she wouldn’t have to break that news to him. “If it is yours, it will be obvious who the father is.”

  “I will take part in the child’s life, as much or as little as you wish … even if the child is not mine.”

  If the baby turned out with a dark complexion, they’d have a lot of explaining to do. Even so, she’d take all the whispering and gossip in place of carrying that monster’s child. She inhaled and released it slowly. “I hope it’s yours.”

  He finally met her eyes. His were so dark, the centers nearly disappeared. “For your sake, I hope so too.”

  She blinked. For my sake? What did that mean?

  Kael broke through the brush, winded and frowning. He searched, finding her. “Your Majesty,” he said, “I found them.”

  Her heart quickened, joy and excitement filling her.

  Kael squatted, offering her his back. No mocking smirks or playful grins this time. “Hurry. He needs you.”

  Without asking for details, she climbed on and closed her eyes, hoping they weren’t too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  SLIGHT OF BUILD and dark skinned, the Talasian princess stood in a grouping of trees. Apart from her tangled hair and her torn dress, she didn’t seem injured. She fiercely gripped a crude stone dagger in her hand.

  “She threw a rock at me,” Kael said.

  Megan noticed the red welt on his head.

  “I didn’t see her at first, but she sure saw me. She must’ve thought I was one of Ekon’s men.”

  Megan touched Kael’s face, sending a pulse of healing into him. He stiffened and inhaled as Megan absorbed the bump. When she’d finished, he examined her with those piercing blue eyes, much longer than necessary.

  She cleared her throat. “General? Where is he?”

  “Over here, Your Majesty.” He pointed to a pile of branches and twigs.

  They walked forward, and the girl’s brown eyes never left them. As they stepped around the foliage debris, a structure, a lean-to of sorts, came into view. It was so well built, Megan had barely seen it there at all.

  Alec lay inside. A paste made with wet leaves or weeds covered his side where his shirt had been torn open. Red splotches covered his pale cheeks. Shallow breaths escaped his lungs in short, jerky pulses. She’d seen death before; he didn’t have long.

  Megan knelt and put a hand to his head, which felt like fire coals. She pushed aside the leaf paste, revealing the source of his problems: the infected arrow wound.

  The swollen area around the wound branched in red streaks, and a yellowish-green fluid oozed. Megan swallowed. It didn’t smell so good either. It had been a long time since she’d seen an infection. Ever since she’d come into her power, she’d been able to help people when their injuries were fresh. She hoped she could help, but honestly, she wasn’t sure. She’d never healed anything like this.

  “Well?” Kael asked.

  “Not good,” Megan answered, her voice shaking.

  “I’ll go get Lieutenant Connelly and the others. Will you be okay here?”

  She nodded, examining the horrible wound.

  Kael’s Speed Shay flared, and he disappeared into the trees. The girl knelt, taking Alec’s hand in hers. Though she wore the typical Talasian mask, worry creased her eyes. If Megan didn’t know better, she’d say the girl cared for him.

  “You help?” the girl asked.

  Megan started. She spoke Adamaian? “Yes, I’ll help.”

  Gently, she pried the girl’s hand from Alec’s, motioning her not to touch him. It would be hard enough to heal without the added contact with someone else.

  She wiped her sleeve across her brow and laid her hands on either side of the wound; the closer the contact to the injury, the better. His skin burned against her palms. She steadied her thrumming heart and inhaled, drawing on her Shay.

  Biting her lip, the arrow wound twisted deep inside her. A whimper escaped as muscles tore, organs pierced, and pain erupted. She almost let go, fear for her unborn child lurching to her thoughts. But the injury was far enough away … just. She should be fine. The wound closed, and the pain ebbed away.

  A new sensation took hold. Putrid filth spread from where the wound had been, traveling into her veins, the poison of the infection spreading like sewage in a well. She forced her shaking hands to stay connected to Alec’s side, but she’d never felt something so revolting. Icy cold filled her—the fever. Her body relaxed as Healing cleansed her blood.

  She broke contact, falling to her backside as her lungs gasped for breath. She felt dirty. Vile. She rubbed her arms, trying to get rid of the repulsive memory. Finally, she looked at Alec. His even breath rose and fell, and the flush left his pale face.

  The others broke through the forest, and Maska slid off the Speed Rol’dan’s back. Kat strode toward Megan, her eyes jerking first to the girl then fixing on Alec. Megan staggered before gaining her feet.

  “General said he wasn’t so good,” Kat said, worry lines on her face.

  “He’s alive. I stopped the infection. Now he needs to rest.”

  “Is he fit to travel?” Kael asked.

  “Not on someone’s back,” Megan said. “Unless one of your men can carry him like a child, it would be best if we put him on something and drag it behind us.”

  Kael grunted. “Slow travel, eh?”

  Megan smiled
, knowing it would drive the general crazy. However, she was okay with not riding on his back, even if it added a few days.

  The princess approached but stopped when she saw Maska. They stared at each other, the tension between them thick. Her expressionless face flashed with anger.

  Maska spoke first to her in Talasian.

  She snapped back, pointing a finger in his chest.

  The exchange increased, the girl’s emotions breaking open fully. The forest echoed with the short, stabbing Talasian speech. Finally, she turned and stomped away, back to Alec. Maska inhaled and released a barely controlled huff.

  “Maska?” Megan asked.

  “It’s a long story.”

  Megan nodded, wanting to know more. She wouldn’t push him though, now that they were speaking to each other. She’d give him time and ask later. Hopefully, he’d be ready to share.

  They started the process of making a litter to carry Alec home. Maska did most of the work, expertly finding branches and wrapping them in vines. When he’d finished, they lifted Alec and laid him on the litter. Alec groaned but made no other movements or protestation. It would take a few days to return to Faylinn, and even then, he would still need time to gain his strength. If only they had the stones …

  Anger at Nolan spiked in Megan again. Where was he? He’d left when they needed him the most, and he’d taken the stones with him. Why had he gone? Surely it wasn’t the tension between him and Emery. Sure, they’d had a fight about the lies Emery had told; even she had given Emery a piece of her mind. But they’d worked it out, hadn’t they? Why would he stomp away like a child having a tantrum. Although … Nolan had been quiet. Maybe something else was wrong.

  She hoped Greer would find Nolan soon, for Alec’s sake, at least. Otherwise, it would take weeks for Alec to regain his strength. Nolan would return for his friend, wouldn’t he? He had come back from Renfrew when she was sick. He would do it for Alec.

  “We are ready,” said the Higherlander Rol’dan as he wiped his large hands on his dirt-streaked uniform.

  Kael nodded. “Maska, will you—”

  Maska had already lifted the litter, his eyes flaring with his Strength. He could carry him without the contraption, but being slung over Maska’s wide shoulders wouldn’t be ideal for Alec to rest.

  ***

  After a half day of travel, one of the Rol’dan, the older one, left to tell Emery what had happened. They stopped at one of the permanent encampments on the trail. Maska set down the litter and walked away, toward the farthest end of camp.

  Megan went to him and put a hand on his arm, but he didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Has Emery shared my history at all?” he asked softy.

  “He said you were kicked out of your country.”

  “By King Kamalin.”

  She nodded. “He never told me why, though.”

  Maska studied the trees. Green leaves poked through the branches, fighting against what remained of the lingering cold. The sky splashed with colors of sunset, putting the forest in shadows. The wind whisked a cold breeze through the air. Megan pushed her hair behind an ear, but the breeze loosed it again.

  Kael laughed near the fire while the Higherlander prepared a flame. Rayen sat on the ground at Alec’s side, checking his wound, brushing the hair from his face, holding his hand.

  “I fell in love with her sister,” Maska said.

  “With whose sister?” Megan asked, but her question drifted away as she followed his gaze.

  “Love isn’t allowed in Talasi. But we loved nonetheless.”

  Pieces of the mystery fell into place. It explained their association, but why the hate?

  “The king banished my love as well. She blames me for taking her sister away. And in many respects, she is right. If we’d behaved, we’d both still be in Talasi.”

  Kael approached. “Maska. How about finding us some food?”

  Maska nodded, grabbed a hand ax they’d used for the fire, and slipped into the woods. Apparently, he was done speaking of his past.

  “You could find your own food,” Megan suggested, a touch of malice in her voice.

  Kael leaned against the tree, a smug grin creeping onto his face. “Your Majesty. I gave him an excuse to get away.”

  Her annoyance with him vanished, replaced with shock. Kael Trividar, the arrogant general of the entire Rol’dan army, the same man who made lewd comments and flirted with anything equipped with breasts, had done Maska a favor? She hadn’t even thought he considered anybody besides himself.

  His mouth quirked, and he gave a small bow. With a quick turn, he returned to the fire.

  Megan watched him swagger away, pretending not to notice how well he did it. She shook her head, remembering her husband—the king, for Brim’s sake—was more handsome, more gentle, more caring than him.

  Kat came to her side, catching Megan’s inspection. “Many women get caught up in that piece of work.”

  Megan cocked her head. “Many women?”

  “Not me. But he’s tried many times … and almost succeeded a few of them.”

  Megan laughed.

  Kat shrugged. “I think it drives the general crazy that someone’s told him no.”

  Kael stretched by the fire, his movements deliberate. His eyes flicked to them, and he grinned.

  “Is he always like that?” Megan asked.

  “Like what?”

  “So … so intense.”

  She snickered. “He’s being respectful to you since you’re married to the king. If he were truly interested, he’d have you pressed up against one of those trees tracing kisses down your neck while trying to take off your clothes.”

  She turned to Kat, eyebrows raised. “And how would you know this?”

  She smiled. “Like I said … almost.”

  Crickets chirped. An owl hooted. Kat and Megan sat away from the others, just outside the fire’s light. The sounds of night whispered, surrounding them. Megan liked Kat; she was unlike any of the other girls she’d known. She spoke her mind, never resorting to hints and giggles like a lot of her previous friends. With Kat, you always knew where you stood.

  “Speaking of such things,” Kat said, her hazel eyes glinting, “how is married life?”

  Megan snorted in reply.

  Kat’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

  “Emery doesn’t want to touch me.”

  “Have you let him know what you want?”

  Megan threw up her arms. “Crows, Kat. He can read emotions.”

  She cringed. “Then he knows.”

  In muted whispers, Megan shared what had happened that morning, leaving out the more embarrassing details. Kat nodded, her brows furrowing at the appropriate parts. When she finished, Kat didn’t speak; she only sat in contemplative silence. The soldiers by the fire laughed.

  “Well,” Kat finally said. “It seems clear to me.”

  The whole situation was as clear as drudging mud from the bottom of the Curlew River. “And what would that be?”

  “Since he knows what you want,” she said, “you need to show him instead, like you did this morning. If he won’t take action, then you need to. Up your game. Do more of the same.”

  Megan’s moment of bravery flashed in her head. She swallowed, panic rising. Could she be so bold again?

  The branches rustled, and Maska broke into the clearing. Several furry bundles lay tossed over his shoulder, sending trails of blood down his chiseled back. Megan couldn’t tell what they’d once been; the poor creatures’ heads had been beaten into a pulp—probably Maska’s attempt to relieve frustration. At least they hadn’t suffered long.

  A cheer rang from the other men. They took his load and skinned and prepared their meal. Maska didn’t speak; he only turned and strode back into the woods.

  Megan’s eyes drifted toward Rayen, still at Alec’s side. Her dark hair hung in her face, long enough to brush the ground. Megan wondered if the girl knew what had happened back in Faylinn.

  “Does
she know?” Kat asked, her mind apparently on the same question.

  “Don’t know. But someone should tell her.” Megan wiped her hands on her riding breeches and stood. Considering the Rol’dan had killed her father, it would be best coming from someone else. And considering their entire group was Rol’dan, except for Megan, the task should rest on her.

  Kat squeezed her arm. “Good luck.”

  Megan nodded, licking her dry lips. She didn’t know if Rayen knew her language well enough to understand. Megan would try anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  AFTER THREE DAYS’ TRAVEL, they reached the front gates of Faylinn. They rushed Alec to a bed, which was a whole lot better than the stick litter he’d been dragged on for days. Megan healed him again, smoothing away the bruises and sores from his rough travel. The scowl lines on his face relaxed as he sunk into the soft bed.

  “If we only had the stones,” Megan said, stepping into the hall.

  Emery rubbed his beard and released a long sigh. “I’ve sent scouts to search for any Talasian activities. They will inform me if they see Nolan. At least he’s hard to miss.”

  Megan nodded, forcing back the tension she’d held for days. More than likely, they’d find Nolan spreading his nightforsaken light to some town. He’d run back to Faylinn as soon as he knew Alec was unwell.

  Tenderness touched Emery’s eyes. He wore his hair down today, not tied back as he usually did. Wavy black strands rested on his shoulders, with a few white hairs sprinkled in—the only thing revealing his age.

  He gently picked up her hand, sending tremors up her arm. “How was your trip?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Where’s the princess?”

  “In her room.”

  Megan nodded, her heart sinking for the girl. When she’d spoken to her a few nights prior, Megan had told her about her father—she hadn’t known. Rayen didn’t understand Megan enough to comprehend the gory details, which was fine. Megan had no desire to inform her that her father had been strung up like a slaughtered deer. She’d leave that information on Alec’s hands.

 

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